ann kiemel

catch a star.
dream a BIG dream.
toss a dozen colors
across the sky.

and know that the world
has a Savior.
and every helium-filled balloon we blow into the air
is a promise of His love and
unfailing compassion to us.
mortals. flawed. full of character
defects. remember, He uses the
poor...or...the strong (if they have
first been crushed) in spite of the
enemy's wildest attempts to shrivel
our confidence.

my sister tormented me
growing up. chiding me.
unmercifully. for talking too
much. i cried myself to sleep
in my pillow every time.

today, my best friend here,
is more patient. kinder. but
she tells me i need to listen more
and talk less. i finally get it.

so....
i sternly promise myself
going to the beauty shop that i will
be QUIET!! but a woman is sitting while
the dye is processing , and we start
talking about our children. that everyone
usually has one problem child in the batch.
one who can't grasp HOW brilliant and skilled
they are, and get stuck.

our flawless (yes! walking perfection) hair
dresser has two, little ones with a third on
the way. that had to be scary.

another flaw of mine
is failing to be right on time
to events. maybe ten minutes when
i slide in, hoping no one will see me.
notice.

the enemy does his dance.
laughs his hollow, cock-eyed laugh
that forms shivers into the very marrow
of our inner strength.

he exaggerates EVERY failure.
he paints shame into the very marrow
of our self-respect. makes us feel
stupid and hopeless and despicable.

i keep pounding the chisel
into my spirit. stubborn with
will power. and EVERY day
i mess up.

throw the rocks out.
the lies and accusations.
dance on the stones.
build altars of humility
with them.

yes, dance the dance.
sing the songs of God's love
that leads us out of our despair
and utter discouragement.
remember, the enemy's best
skill is to tell us lies. to separate
and divide us.

the music rings.
the balloons are scaling
the atmosphere. and
victory is our song and hope.